Читать книгу The Secret Chart; or, Treasure Hunting in Hayti онлайн

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“You’se gwine kase ob wha’ a dead man tole yer?” and now Andy exhibited every sign of fear.

“Of course a dead man couldn’t tell us anything,” Gil replied, impatiently. “We don’t believe in ghosts.”

“But yer will, honey, ef dis yere craft anchors anywhere ’roun’ Hayti near the gold wha’s got blood on it.”

“So you’ve heard about treasure being buried there?” Nelse cried, excitedly.

“I’se done more’n hear ’bout it, chile. Ef I should go fur to tell yer all I’se seen, de berry hair would tumble away frum yer head.”

“Tell us about it, and we’ll risk our hair,” Gil said, coaxingly.

“Yer doesn’t know wha’ you’se askin’, chile. I’d done gone die dead ef I should splain half I’se seen in dat hole ob de debble. Does yer hab any idee who’s libbin’ dere?”

“The natives of the island, I suppose.”

“Jes’ listen to me, chillun, an’ den go ashore same’s I’se gwine fur to do ef de captain ’sists on headin’ dis yere schooner to dat place. Dere’s voudoos ’roun’ de coast,” and the old man looked over his shoulder, as he spoke, as if believing some horrible punishment would be meted out to him for so much as mentioning the dreaded name.